


Blossoming

by Misila



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6812899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misila/pseuds/Misila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a tree fell in love with a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blossoming

 

 

 

 

This story should start with _once upon a time_.

But it doesn’t.

This story didn’t happen long ago. It might have happened last month, it might be happening in this same moment. Maybe, only maybe, it’ll happen a thousand years from now.

But it doesn’t start with _once upon a time_.

This story starts with laughter.

With a boy’s laughter as he plays beneath a cherry tree.

 

 

 

i. elements

 

 

It vibrated through the air, tangled between strong branches and leaves trembling by the whispers of the Wind. It was loud– but that wasn’t the reason it spread over the hill, reached so far it brushed the Sky above cottony clouds and the bottom of the Sea.

That single sound, full of the joy of someone who doesn’t know loss, caressed the bark protecting the cherry tree’s soul.

And for a second, the moment the essence within awoke, the kind of instant where Life makes a turn and Reality has to rearrange itself, all the tree sensed, knew, felt– all the tree _was_ … was red.

Like the hair dancing to the playful rhythm imposed by the Wind, like the eyes full of innocence holding a light that could rival the Sun himself. The human child had the mischievousness of a thousand Stars and the foreign strength of the Sea, and the warmth of his hands when he pressed them against the trunk to hide behind it was a reminder of that of Mother Earth.

He was a universe condensed in that small body of his, and the realisation made the tree shudder imperceptibly when he laughed again.

It wasn’t long until another boy reached the top of the hill, undoubtedly following the echo of the other’s giggles. Unlike the little universe, though, not even a smile appeared on his face.

“What are you doing here?!” he scolded the child, a disapproving frown carved between his black eyebrows.

The boy who had arrived first huffed and reluctantly stepped from behind the tree so his friend could see him.

“Hiding. What are _you_ doing, standing there? You’re supposed to chase me now!”

“No.” The newcomer ran a hand through his dark hair. “Rin, haven’t you heard the legends? This tree is cursed.”

The redheaded boy, Rin, stared up the top of the tree.

“That’s not true. It’s so beautiful!”

_A really loud universe._

An exasperated groan rolled down the hill. “What does that have to do with anything? The Sasakis killed a baby here, everyone knows it.”

The Wind laughed as he passed the tree. _It was beautiful, wasn’t it?_ He said.

_Shut up._

“Old wives’ tales!” Rin replied. “Besides, why would that be the tree’s fault?”

Had the tree been able to, it would have smiled. A sad, nostalgic smile. If that noisy boy knew.

“Why don’t you ask Nanase-san? Kisumi said it was her grandchild who they killed in a dark magic ritual.”

 _No_ , the tree found itself almost screaming. _Don’t ask her, never ask her._

But only the Wind heard it.

“You can’t ask _that_ to an old lady,” Rin protested.

“Whatever. I’m not staying here.” Rin’s friend was already turning around to leave. “Have you ever wondered why that’s the only tree in the hill?”

The tree knew the answer to that question, but the kid that had a whole universe within him had already decided to follow his friend. Reluctantly he walked away, muttering complaints under his breath; and the cherry tree, awake for the first time in ten years, was left alone again.

Maybe it was the best option.

But as the Wind swirled around him, teasing and pestering, the tree decided he would rather hear Rin’s laugh.

 

 

Rin came back two days afterwards.

Nobody accompanied him that time; the Sun had long since disappeared in the Sea, the Moon sang a lullaby as the Stars twinkled lazily and the cherry tree was already trying to sleep for another decade, to forget the little universe that had woken it up and stirred memories that were better off untouched.

“So here,” he started, running towards the place where a particularly thick root sank into the ground, “is where they killed the baby.” He was talking to himself, and judging by how he was slightly out of breath he was well aware he shouldn’t be there. “Dark magic…” Rin shook his head. “Who uses dark magic nowadays? There’s _science_ , nobody needs to sacrifice innocent people anymore.” He looked at the green canopy. “They were just crazy, probably,” he muttered; and for a second the tree wondered if Rin knew it could hear him. “And it’s not your fault, but you’re lonely here.”

 _Yet Mother Earth punished me with salt so nothing grew around me_.

She had been so angry when she found what the humans had done. The tree had survived only because its roots reached deep, almost to the core of the hill, and had managed to find the water it needed; and also because the Rain took pity and escaped from the Clouds to help.

Rin sat under the leaves, looking at the Sea and the Sky. The ever teasing Wind scrapped his skin, not minding the tree’s warning; he always wanted to have fun, and humans hardly ever dared climb the hill, let alone stay voluntarily.

As the child took a quilt out the bag he had brought with him, the tree lowered its younger branches in an attempt to protect him from the Wind. Rin might be loud, but there was no ill intent in his soul. He huddled in the fabric, leaning on the trunk.

The tree could feel Rin’s tremor during the minutes he spent quiet.

“I argued with Mum,” he whispered then. As if telling a secret. “She won’t let me go fishing with Dad.” He paused. “She says it’s dangerous, but I’m already twelve and I can swim as well as Dad.” He huffed. “Sometimes I wish I were a tree.”

 _You don’t_ , the tree simply replied.

Not that it disliked being a tree. After all, it was used to it. It had been its life for… How long?

“Not always, because it must be boring,” Rin continued. “But I _wanna_ be the best wizard in the world and,” he yawned, closed his eyes, “there are barely good teachers in Iwatobi, since it’s a tiny village; I bet I could beat any of them.”

The hill was silent except for Rin’s sleepy voice; even the Wind had stopped bothering the child.

“I think I’ll come here to practice from now on. Everyone says it’s a cursed place, so nobody will bother me.”

 _He dreams big_ , the Wind noted, when Rin fell asleep dishevelling the boy’s hair.

The tree didn’t like it.

 

 

The tree saw how Rin got better at magic throughout the summer; he had many books about the matter, since, as he had stated, no teacher was good enough for him. He would read aloud the theory, then practice it moving his hands the way magic flowed out of his body better. He occasionally chopped some branches off, but the tree’s core was never in danger, thankfully. When Rin missed he would rush towards the tree, climb it (despite the tree’s attempts to avoid it) until he found the wounded branch and tried to fix it the best he could, always whispering apologies and caressing the tree as if it were a little child with a scraped knee.

Autumn followed summer, and as days became shorter the cherry tree lost its leaves. Rin would play with them, make sculptures that kept their form, literally, by magic; one day he surprised the cherry tree by joining together hundreds of leaves from different species and wrapping them around the trunk _so you aren’t cold_.

Winter came, and with it the first snowfall. Not even that made Rin miss his daily training on the hill; he even brought his little sister, who he had talked about sometimes, and the friend that initially had tried to dissuade him from getting close to the cherry tree.

She was called Gou; he was Sousuke. They didn’t want to be there, and the only reason they didn’t leave was that Rin insisted on staying there, since it was the only place where the other children hadn’t stepped on the snow yet. Soon they forgot about the supposed curse of the hill and started a snowball fight, one that Rin won easily; he hadn’t spent all those weeks training for nothing.

“I think this tree isn’t that bad,” Sousuke commented.

Rin’s face lit up. “It’s awesome! It’s really easy to climb on it, too– well, except when I accidentally chop too many branches off. It’s like it’s angry…”

Gou laughed. “Onii-chan, it’s a tree.” She stared at the naked branches. “But it must be beautiful when it blooms.”

“I’ll come here to see it when it does,” Rin assured.

And for a second, as the three children laid on the ground, exhausted but giggling as they commented parts of the game, Haruka felt jealous. He wanted to play with them, too; he wanted to point out that Rin was exaggerating his abilities and wanted to lie down with him, to not be only a witness, to enjoy the life he’d–

 _Finally throwing a tantrum, little kid? Took you a while_ , the Wind snickered.

Kid? Haruka had long since stopped being a kid. He was a cherry tree, and he should keep it in mind.

Rin, Gou and Sousuke were kids. The tree watching them would be never part of them.

 

 

The day the cherry tree blossomed Rin didn’t visit it.

It was the first time in months he was missing; it made the tree feel uneasy, or at least as uneasy as a tree was able to feel.

Maybe Rin was just busy.

He didn’t appear the next day either, or the day after that; soon the flowers matured, the leaves grew; the cherry tree was no longer in bloom and Rin had missed it, despite having said he’d come.

 _Humans have more important things to do_.

The tree ignored the Wind’s jibe. Rin would come. But it would take him some time and the tree would have to learn to be patient; after all, he had all the time in the world.

And so Haruka waited until summer came again. Until its leaves fell again, until cold snow covered its branches. Hoped he would appear when he blossomed next spring and focused its energy in growing more flowers, in making them more beautiful.

But Rin didn’t come.

And Haruka fell ill.

 

 

Green covered in a sickly grey, mould rotting its newer branches. It then attacked its cherries, and no animal dared eating them; birds wouldn’t even fly close, let alone perch on the tree. It would try to get rid of it, dropping the affected branches, but it was useless.

 _Don’t let it beat you_ , the Wind whispered with something akin to worry, scrapping the grey stains off the branches.

 _You already smell of death_ , Mother Earth pointed out, scornful.

 _You invested too much in those beautiful flowers, and your boy didn’t even come_ , the Stars sang along.

 _Just forget him, kid_ , the Moon advised in her soothing voice.

But none of them helped Haruka.

An old woman the tree remembered from another life did.

 

 

She looked at the tree almost with hatred, nose scrunched up in disgust. She walked slightly hunched, hands laced behind her back.

“I guess you aren’t at fault after all.”

Her voice sounded as tired as the tree felt. And yet, there was something calming on her words despite her displease. Maybe it was just the timbre.

She came back the next day, and the next one. And every day she would fumigate as she complained about her poor back; yet she never took a rest before getting the work done.

By the time the tree was healed the leaves that hadn’t been infected were starting to fall to the ground.

His grandmother never came back.

 

 

The cherry tree didn’t give up on Rin.

Haruka asked the Sky, but he only shrugged. Asked the Sun and the Moon, but he had too many people to watch to focus on a single person and she couldn’t be everywhere. Asked the Rain, asked the Stars; but one was too sad to notice humans and the others were too far away to hear a request from a humble tree.

And then– two years after he recovered from his illness, the Wind brought a friend.

She was called Storm, like any other Storm. And she had been born from an affair between a Cloud and a Flame, like any other Storm. And she told Haruka loudly, between Thunder and Rain –because that’s the only way Storms can speak– that she had seen a boy red like Fire, strong like the Sea and warm like Mother Earth.

 _His eyes are sick_ , she screamed, and her sadness almost hit Haruka. The bolt landed on the naked ground, only a few metres from the tree _._

 _The light can’t get into them and he holds water inside until he’s alone_.

 

 

Mother Earth was the single most terrifying entity Haruka had ever met.

She welcomed every single been born from her; but like any mother, she had expectations. She would make life difficult for a plant that germinated on the wrong place, she would get rid of anyone that stayed too long on any of her rivers’ way. She would shake with rage when there were too many living beings on her surface, reducing the population to a reasonable level.

She didn’t like Haruka. She tolerated the tree’s presence, because it had fought for it when a foreign soul had been bounded to it, but she was always expecting a mistake on Haruka’s part to get rid of that unnatural thing.

Yet Haruka called her. He wanted to see Rin; wanted to know why he had broken his promise, why he had never gone see the tree in blossom– why he cried.

 _Irresponsible kid_ , was the first thing he heard. _Is this what humans call adolescence? I can’t explain why you’d be so reckless otherwise._

 _I came to ask you,_ Haruka started, swallowing his fear, _for a human body to go back to._

Mother Earth smiled. It wasn’t a visible smile; but every entity on the hill felt it. The Wind ran away.

_Do you think I don’t know what my own children do? I have seen that rash boy come here for months. I have seen the tips of your roots curl when he talked to you… You even fell ill; for a second I thought I had finally gotten rid of you._

Mother Earth was attracting some Stars’ attention.

_Yet now you come me asking for a favour. What can you give in exchange?_

Haruka had thought about it when he decided ask for her help.

_Aiko Sasaki._

Somewhere in the planet there was an earthquake when Mother Earth laughed. Even the Sea shuddered.

_For being a cherry tree, you aren’t very noble, my child._

_I never said I was, and I never asked to be one_.

Haruka had been two at the time; he had only cried and called his grandmother when the Sasakis took him, when they sliced his throat and offered his soul as a payment so that their beloved daughter came back to life. He wouldn’t remember that moment had he kept being human.

But trees had good memory, and every detail of that night would be engraved in his soul until it stopped being and became a new source of energy for Mother Earth.

_What about that poor girl’s life? If you leave this tree, she will die._

_She died fourteen years ago._

She was living a life that belonged to Haruka.

A while passed before Mother Earth talked again.

 _I have an idea about what I can do with you_ , she admitted, _but why now? You’ve been trapped in that old tree for a long time. What is different?_

The most accurate answer would be _Rin_. Rin, how he had awakened Haruka after he shut his essence down to protect his mind from the shock of what he had been through; how he had made him remember whatever there was left in his memory of what being human meant… How he longed for the life he had been denied.

Mother Earth guessed the true answer before Haruka could think of a less embarrassing excuse. Like any mother would have.

 _The tree fell in love with the child_ , she whispered. Oddly enough, she didn’t sound like she was mocking Haruka anymore. _Let’s see if you like what I have planned for you, my little Haruka_.

 _Your blood still stains my hill. It’s a pity, but on the other hand I can make you the body you would have had had you grown up like any human, even with your magic– which I can’t develop for you, or teach you how to control._ As she talked, something that looked like a clay doll emerged from the ground; soon it grew hair, got paler and developed features– _But to make it more interesting, there are conditions:_

_The Moon is hiding tonight; well, you have until the day she shows her whole face again, at midnight, to come back here. If you come here empty-handed, I’ll take your soul._

_If you come here with that boy, if he loves you, kisses you under this tree– you will keep that body._

_But if you dare not coming back here or try any trick, I’ll make sure you pay for making me spend so many time and energy in our deal. You will regret it until the day I cease existing, for as many eternities as I am, until the moment the Sun takes me inside him._

_Well? What do you say, little boy?_

Haruka didn’t pretend to ponder about it.

_What other choice do I have?_

 

 

The pale figure laying on the ground awoke screaming.

For the first time in fourteen years, Haruka Nanase had limbs to feel. He sat up leaning on trembling arms; touched his body with a toddler’s curiosity, pressed his palm against his chest to feel his heartbeat. Choked out a sob when he sensed the _thump, thump, thump thump thumpthumpthump_ he had heard through Rin’s clothes years ago.

 _I’m alive_.

He curled up into himself and cried.

 

 

 

ii. humans

 

 

Haruka stood on wobbly legs, leaning on the old cherry tree.

He had thought fourteen days would be a more than reasonable period to find Rin. But now, as he struggled to take a step, magic buzzing on his skin like electricity, he was starting to get worried about that.

He practiced walking around the tree, hand leaning on the trunk for support. Eventually he felt safe enough to move around by himself, but needed several attempts before getting it right.

When he walked down the hill, a new problem hit him: he was naked, which was frowned upon.

He decided going to his grandmother’s house; it was the only home he could think of, the only place he knew how to get, after all, and maybe she wouldn’t reject him if she recognised her grandson and not the tree under which Haruka had been killed.

The house was empty, though. Haruka opened the door easily, stumbled inside and fell on the wooden floor. He checked the soles of his feet, searching for wounds, but he only found some little pebbles painfully embedded into his skin. After getting rid of them he stood up again, walked through the hallway he only remembered vaguely.

 _I thought you were going to find your boy_.

Haruka flinched. He hadn’t expected to be able to hear the elements in his human body.

“I am.” The words sounded strange, clumsy as they came out of his lips. He then remembered– he had never properly learnt to talk. His stomach tightened when a vivid, silvery flash crossed his vision, and he instinctively touched his throat. There was no cut on it.

“I need clothes,” he said slowly.

 _Oh, true. Humans_. Haruka frowned. _There are clothes for you on your parents’ closet. Your grandmother never got rid of her son’s belongings; nor of her grandson’s, but those don’t fit you anymore_. The Wind laughed. _Why don’t you humans just let go of what weighs you down?_

Haruka was already climbing the stairs.

“Because we value memories.”

_Oh? What memories do you have?_

“Shut up.”

_You’ll come crying when you need to get to your boy. What were those twisted drawings called in Japan again…? Kanji?_

Haruka bit his lip. He hadn’t thought about it, but he couldn’t deny that, among the many things he couldn’t do was reading.

“You’ll help me when I ask you,” he finally replied. He knew the Wind was usually too bored to not help whoever needed it.

His father’s clothes were a bit big for him, but Haruka managed to find a hoodie and a pair of jeans he felt more or less comfortable in. Luckily finding a pair of trainers was easier; and soon he was climbing down the stairs after making sure everything was in its place. He didn’t want his grandmother to get needlessly scared.

 _You’ll need money_ , the Wind reminded him.

Haruka sighed. He didn’t want to be a thief, but if he wanted to get to Tokyo, where according to the Storm Rin was, he would need a way to get there. Preferably quickly.

 

 

With the Wind’s help, arriving to the capital of the country wasn’t difficult. They were there by the afternoon.

Which was harder, however, was figuring out _where_ Rin could be. Haruka had never seen so many people together, not even from afar; when he was thrown into a crowd that pushed him around, each of them in a different direction, he thought he would suffocate. The Wind gave him orders, but his tone was so demanding Haruka only got dizzier.

Until something grabbed his wrist and pulled at him.

Instinctively Haruka released a flash of magic; there was something cool stopping it from advancing, though, and soon Haruka found himself out of the crowd, face to face with a man that looked a head taller than him.

“Woah, that’s dangerous,” he muttered, letting go of Haruka.

He frowned at the stranger. He was smiling, as if Haruka hadn’t just tried to attack him. Droopy, green eyes looked at him with a friendly glint under a brown thick fringe.

“Uh… Sorry.” Luckily his voice didn’t sound as awkward as it had in the morning. He had been practising during the trip.

“Don’t worry. This crowd would drive anyone crazy... I’m Makoto, by the way.”

“Haruka– Haru,” Haruka quickly corrected himself. Apparently it was a girly name, or so the Wind had told him.

“You aren’t used to big cities, are you?” Makoto asked gently. “I was like you when I moved in two years ago, and when I saw you I thought a little help would do you good,” he explained. Haruka nodded. “Why are you here, by the way?”

“I came to see someone.” There was something about Makoto that made talking to him easy; Haruka didn’t think twice before answering his questions.

“Oh. May I ask who?” Makoto’s smile died down a bit. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but you look like you don’t know Tokyo at all. Maybe I could help you.”

Haruka had to admit he was right. “His name is Rin.”

Makoto stared at him for at least ten seconds before speaking again.

“What about his surname?”

Haruka bit into his lower lip.

“I don’t know.” He looked down. “I’d recognise him if I saw him.” At least he was sure of that.

Makoto shook his head. “Look around us. There are too many people; you can’t find a person no matter how well you remember him.”

“His friend is called Sousuke,” Haruka recalled, voice hitching with something akin to panic. He didn’t have time to lose; he had already spent almost a whole day. “He has a little sister called Gou, and their father is a fisherman–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Makoto cut him off, but now he didn’t sound disappointed. “You know Gou? Gou Matsuoka?”

Haruka shrugged. “I don’t know her surname. She has red hair, like Rin, but longer and a bit darker...”

“Definitely Nagisa’s girlfriend,” Makoto muttered, smiling brightly as Haruka realised they had found a way to Rin. “Her– Their father died, though,” he added quietly.

Rin’s usual complaints about how his mother never let him go with his father came to Haruka’s head. No matter how bad Rin’s day was, he always had fondness in his voice when he talked about his parents.

“Can you take me with Gou?”

Makoto nodded. “I was actually going to have dinner with her and other friends, at Nagisa’s,” he explained. “I don’t see her brother often, though; he’s usually by himself,” he added, already walking and gesturing for Haruka to follow him. “How do you know them?” he asked, curious.

Haruka opened his mouth, realised _I watched over Rin for months because I was trapped in a cherry tree for fourteen years and he happened to like practising on the hill I stood on_ wasn’t the best thing to say to someone he had just met and pursed his lips together.

“He lived in the same village as me four years ago,” he said instead. “He disappeared without saying goodbye,” he added, quietly.

 _Why would he say goodbye to a tree?,_ the Wind interjected.

“Four years ago...” Makoto looked pensive. “I think that’s when Gou’s father died.”

Haruka fell silent.

Was that the reason Rin hadn’t bothered with a farewell? He had wished to see the tree in bloom so badly... Had the pain of the loss been so bad he had stopped wanting to see the spring come under Haruka’s branches?

“But wow, this really seems to be planned,” Makoto blurted out. “That you are looking for my friend’s brother and we happened to meet, when Tokyo is huge, I mean.” His smile grew wider.

Haruka couldn’t help but smile back.

 

 

Gou was the same Haruka remembered. Taller and with developed breasts, not to mention how her naturally bossy voice had grown bossier; but her gaze was the same, as well as her enthusiastic smile.

Not as enthusiastic as her boyfriend’s, of course; Nagisa was _overwhelming_ , cheerful and noisy; but there was something in the way he seemed to sense when Haruka had had enough that made him like the boy nonetheless. He was often stopped by Rei, who had exquisite manners, except when he found a topic he was passionate about. He would talk and talk and talk without minding nobody paid attention.

“You know my brother from Iwatobi?!” Gou clapped her hands together, excited, grabbing Haruka’s wrist and dragging him to the kitchen, away from her friends. “Were you with him at school or something? Because you definitely weren’t in my class; otherwise I’d remember you–”

“It wasn’t from school,” Haruka shifted his weight from one foot to another, uncomfortable. “We used to play together.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, anyway.

“On the hill where the Sasakis killed a child?”

Haruka froze.

“Huh?”

“He used to say he was going to see someone,” Gou explained. “Once I saw him walking down the hill, and he said there was someone he was friends with. I never understood why he was so secretive about it.”

Somehow Haruka managed to nod.

Most people could use magic; he knew as much. However, it was a gift from Mother Earth, and therefore a lesser form of energy than the one the elements possessed. There were few people that could feel that kind of magic; for the first time Haruka wondered if Rin had ever heard him– or at least sensed the cherry tree wasn’t a regular plant.

 _That would explain why he got so attached to a tree_ , the Wind supplied, violently opening a window in his rush to talk to Haruka.

“I’ll take you to him tomorrow,” Gou decided after slamming it shut energetically, “but I should call him first.”

Something about the way her expression darkened bothered Haruka.

“Since Dad died he’s been strange,” she explained after calling her brother. “It affected us all, of course– but he hit a wall, magically speaking. We tried to help, but he just wouldn’t let us. He enrolled in one of the best magic academies in Japan, forced himself to the limit to prove he was alright– but he only caused the worst accident that school has ever witnessed.”

Haruka wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask next. Gou answered one of his questions anyway:

“He was expelled, of course.” Her voice sounded sad. “He is now in a boarding school, but as far as I know he hasn’t tried a single spell since that day.”

Haruka looked down.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Gou smiled sadly. “He doesn’t want any friend, no matter who it is, to talk to him; I couldn’t even explain it was you... But don’t let him discourage you.”

Haruka nodded.

 _The light can’t get into his eyes and he holds water inside until he’s alone_ , the Storm had said.

Haruka shuddered. He didn’t like that Rin.

 

 

As soon as Makoto learnt Haruka didn’t have a place to spend the night (even though he had his grandmother’s money) he dragged his new friend to his house. No buts.

“You can be here for as long as you need.”

Haruka wondered if Makoto let everyone he had just met sleep in his house. He wished he didn’t; there was never too much caution, and it wasn’t only him: he lived with his parents and his twin siblings, a boy and a girl that liked Haruka the moment they saw him.

It was the first night Haruka would sleep since he was two years old; he felt oddly vulnerable as Makoto switched the light off and crawled into his bed, curling up in the futon the boy had laid out for him. After spending fourteen years as a tree, sleep seemed the stupidest waste of time Mother Earth could have thought of. Not only humans were completely exposed to too many risks for eight hours, but they were completely useless during that time.

But, waste of time of not, Haruka needed it as much as he had needed the food Nagisa had offered him earlier, and he drifted off even before replying to Makoto’s _good night_.

 

 

He awoke screaming, trembling as he tried to shake the hands holding him off his arms, curling up so his neck wasn’t exposed for that woman to slice a smile across it–

“Haru? What’s wrong?”

Haruka hid his face behind his hands as Makoto switched the light on.

 _A dream_.

He would have to get used to those.

“What kind of nightmare was that?” Makoto softly asked, kneeling beside Haruka’s futon.

“A stupid one,” he mumbled from behind his palms. “Sorry.”

Makoto left the room, only to come back with water. By then Haruka had managed to calm down a bit, even though his hands still trembled when they held the glass.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, soothing; Haruka hated how it worked. “It’s not real anyway.”

As Makoto switched the light off again, Haruka wondered what he would think if he knew his nightmare had been, indeed, terribly real.

 

 

Haruka had to wait until Makoto finished school to go see Rin. He would have gone alone; but, at his host pointed out, that would have been useless, since Rin was busy too anyway.

Besides, he had still thirteen days left.

Rin’s school was grey as the darkest storm. Haruka wondered if it had sucked the colour off everything close to him; not even the few flowers that still grew on the gardens surrounding the buildings had colours and the green of the leaves was dulled, dead. It reminded him of the grey sickness he had almost succumbed to.

Makoto said he had something to buy in a shop nearby, so Haruka was left alone to face a Rin that, from what he had heard, was very different from the loud little universe he remembered.

He asked the caretaker and waited in the hall as the man went into a hallway that looked like a tunnel that led where every colour was devoured. He wished he could read; there were posters of what Haruka supposed were short stories, probably winners of some award, as well as paintings that would make Reality pale.

Haruka could understand why Mother Earth disliked humans in general: they were her know-it-all children, the ones who wanted to know more than her (her, who had given them life); from what he had gathered from his few interactions with them, he didn’t like the majority of them either. He wondered, however, if she was aware of the beauty they were able to create.

He didn’t have long to munch over those thoughts; soon the caretaker was back, and judging by the apologetic expression on his face he didn’t have good news.

“He’s here,” the man explained. “However, he refuses to see anyone.”

Haruka frowned.

“But I only want to talk to him.”

“I am afraid we have to prioritise our students’ wellbeing over visitors’ wishes.” The caretaker’s voice was hard now, almost angry.

“But–”

“I am sorry, but I must ask you to take your leave, sir. Unless you’re a relative.”

Haruka pursed his lips together.

“Can I come back tomorrow? Maybe he’ll be less upset then.”

The caretaker’s nod wasn’t as relieving as it should have been.

 

 

Since Rin apparently refused to see anyone, Haruka spent the next two days learning about his life after leaving Iwatobi. There wasn’t much to tell besides what Gou had already explained; but wandering around Tokyo helped Haruka get familiar with the place, and at some point he learnt not to panic when he found himself surrounded by people who didn’t even see him, to push to follow his path.

The third day the caretaker told him how sorry he was because Rin didn’t want to talk to anyone, Haruka didn’t leave the school immediately. He could read enough to understand a plan of the facility by then; and when he walked out the building he had a walk around the school, mentally noting all the spots he could break in through.

 _That isn’t very noble_ , the Wind commented.

Haruka didn’t mind. He had learnt the number of Rin’s room the day prior and he intended to use that piece of information.

 

 

That night Haruka accidentally caused the net of security cameras to break down.

He hadn’t meant to. He just got nervous after climbing the fence and finding a guard walking less than a metre from him, and his uncontrolled magic did the rest. The Wind found the incident to be pretty funny.

Once inside the facility, though, sneaking into the dormitory building was easy. Haruka held his breath as he tiptoed down the hallways, looking for Rin’s room.

_306_

Those rooms must be really tiny, Haruka thought; he passed fifty of them on the ground floor, where there were a laundry and a several common rooms too.

Someone bumped into him when he finished climbing the stairs to the first floor.

“Sorry,” someone automatically muttered.

It was dark, but Haruka discerned red hair between the man who had just bumped into him.

“Rin?”

The stranger, already three steps below Haruka, seemed to freeze for a second. He then turned around and clamped his hand on Haruka’s mouth.

“Do you want to get caught?” he hissed, glaring at Haruka. “I don’t mind, but some of us want to go out, so–”

Haruka shook his head. Thankfully it was enough to humour Rin. He drew his hand back, kept walking down the stairs without a word. Climbed the fence to sneak out of the school, at the exact same point Haruka had used to get in.

He didn’t realise until he was two streets away that Haruka was still following him.

 

 

Rin’s screech was probably heard at the other side of the world.

“Why are you following me?!”

In the streetlamp light, Haruka could properly appreciate the boy he had seen play around him so often: his red hair was longer, brighter. He had grown up, built some muscle; yet he was about as tall as Haruka. His face was sharper; his expression nothing short of aggressive.

But Haruka couldn’t recognise his eyes. Not even a thousand warnings would have been enough for him to expect the emptiness he found in them; the contrast between the child full of dreams he had been four years ago and the stranger with a dull gaze made Haruka shudder.

He peeked into them, pushing aside the thin layer of indignation, and found nothing.

And Haruka stepped back, because Rin’s eyes were dangerous and he might fall into them– and he didn’t want to drown in that void.

Yet he forced words out of his mouth.

“Do you remember me?”

 

 

 

iii. dates

 

 

It took Rin a whole minute to answer Haruka’s question. Maybe he thought he was being stalked, maybe he was just having trouble processing the fact that a complete stranger addressed him in such a familiar way. In any case, he squinted, as if it would help him recognise the young man before him.

“No,” he said finally, cautious. “Should I?”

Haruka took his time to think about his next move. He didn’t want to scare Rin. “Your sister called you the other day, didn’t she?” Rin tilted his head. “What did she tell you?”

“That someone–” Rin trailed off when he fully understood the question; he bared his teeth, white and sharp. “What business do you have with my sister? She has a boyfriend and if I–”

“I asked her about you,” Haruka cut him off.

Rin looked more suspicious, but he reluctantly answered the question:

“She said someone from Iwatobi wanted to see me.” Rin scanned Haruka from head to toe. “But I don’t remember you right now, sorry.”

Haruka ground his teeth together. He had expected it, but it still hurt.

“You used to practise magic on a hill where there’s only a cherry tree,” he said, ignoring Rin’s widening eyes. “I was that tree.”

Rin blinked. One, two, three times.

He choked out a strangled cry. He stepped back, then forward, then back; as if he weren’t able to make up his mind. For a second Haruka feared he would turn around and run, but instead he swallowed down, arm reaching out towards Haruka’s face.

Rin stopped before touching Haruka’s skin, though.

“You…” He inhaled sharply. “I _knew_ there was something weird with that tree!” For the first time, something akin to a smile appeared on his face. “But why? Is it because of what the Sasakis did there?”

Haruka’s mouth went dry. It usually happened whenever he remembered that night; since he inhabited a vessel capable of expressing emotions he felt oddly vulnerable. Somewhere in the back of his head, he had that memory filed away as a fact; but he couldn’t stop it from merging with feelings that kept him from acting like a fully functional human being.

Maybe he paled, because Rin’s expression went from curious to worried to scared as his hands held Haruka’s shoulders.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Haruka sighed, drew his right arm up and curled his fingers around Rin’s wrist. He could feel his pulse through the sleeve of his sweater, and it calmed him down more than he had thought possible.

He knew more than he should about Rin; it was only fair that Rin learnt something about his past.

“Is there somewhere we can sit down?”

 

 

Rin took him to a nearby park.

Or at least, it had been a park at some time; now it was an abandoned gap in between Tokyo’s tall buildings, a miniature city made of rusted swings and slides. Once a paradise for children, the ruined park wasn’t the best environment to help Haruka relax; the twisted pieces metal reminded him of tall shadows hovering over him, of voices talking about the best way to proceed with the sacrifice.

But Rin was right by his side.

“When I was two,” Haruka started, sitting on a swing that screeched with the tiniest movement, next to Rin, “the Sasakis’ daughter died.” He stared at his feet; his legs were too long to simply hang in the air, but he still used them to swing back and forth.

“That kind of magic is forbidden, but that didn’t stop them from kidnapping me.” Haruka had later learnt he had been the chosen one because he had born the same day as Aiko Sasaki. “Since you can’t bring back a life without paying something in exchange, they offered me as a sacrifice, killed me and bounded my soul to that cherry tree.”

The sudden silence told Haruka Rin had stopped moving.

“They... That’s horrible,” he eventually blurted out. Haruka didn’t look up. “How did you escape?”

Haruka’s hands gripped the chains of the swing tighter. “I made a deal with Mother Earth– one of the elemental entities, the most powerful of them all– so she gave me a human body.”

“What’s the deal about?”

Haruka pursed his lips together.

“I have until the next full moon. Then, if I– I’ll be back in the tree.”

He didn’t know why he hadn’t told Rin about the whole deal. But he did know Rin had nothing to do with it; Haruka didn’t want to pressure him, didn’t want to condition him– he was talking with him, and even though that Rin was barely a shadow of the little universe Haruka had met so long ago, it was more than Haruka had ever allowed himself to hope for.

When he dared looking at Rin again, he found an incredulous expression he hadn’t been expecting. He looked up, at the thin crescent already appearing on the sky.

“You’re spending your time here... seeing _me_?”

Haruka didn’t like the way he emphasised the word, as if Rin didn’t believe he was worth the last month of one’s life.

 _I had never thought of living again until I met you_ , Haruka wanted to tell him.

Instead, what came out of his mouth was:

“You were the only person that dared coming near me.”

Rin looked down.

“Well, isn’t that funny?” He sighed. “Maybe that hill was cursed after all.” Haruka wanted to know more, but Rin stood up before he could speak. “I don’t know why you would want to spend time with _me_...” and there it was, that self-deprecating edge Haruka hated hearing in his voice, “but I’ll try to make your month here be worth it.”

 

 

Throughout the next days, Rin kept his promise.

During the mornings he was at school, but during the afternoon he showed Haruka every place in Tokyo he deemed worthy of Haruka’s attention. Haruka admittedly enjoyed every day, but not for the sights; he started pretending to be unimpressed when he found out how easy teasing Rin was, revelling in the certainty of being with Rin, finally spending time with him, finally able to talk to him, to occasionally get a glimpse of the bright little universe he had been.

What was more difficult, though, was getting Rin to do magic. Haruka had yet to know what was that famous incident Gou had avoided explaining in depth; but Rin refused every petition, no matter how Haruka asked. He only agreed to help Haruka control his own powers.

They usually went to the abandoned park where they had talked for the first time; Rin gave indications and Haruka tried his best to follow them. It took them a while before realising Haruka didn’t understand technical orders; when they did, Rin changed his method, using a more instinctive approach instead.

“I bet I can slice down the slide in half,” Haruka said at some point, when he counted his tenth day living as a human. “Without risk of pieces of metal getting into our eyes.”

Rin snorted. “You wish. It took me two months before I learnt to do that.”

“I know, you trimmed me many times.”

Rin’s cheeks turned pink. Haruka focused on the rusted slide when he realised he was staring, a soft smile on his lips.

“You know,” he said eventually, after Haruka tried to cut the slide anyway and put both their lives in danger, as they made their way to Rin’s school, “I never apologised for not saying goodbye.” Haruka raised an eyebrow. “When I left Iwatobi.”

“Rin, I was a _tree_.”

“Yeah, but I knew the tree was different,” Rin insisted. “I told that tree– you– everything, but I left without an explanation.”

Haruka looked down.

“You talked a lot about seeing the tree in bloom,” he whispered, “and the day I bloomed you weren’t there.”

“Dad died,” Rin muttered. “I... I was grieving, I didn’t want to go out. And Mum, Gou and I came to Tokyo right after the funeral.”

Haruka bit into his lip.

“I’m sorry.”

Rin elbowed him in the ribs. “Hey, it’s me the one who should apologise. You were a tree.” A smile tugged at the corners of Haruka’s lips. “How long do you have left?”

 _Three or four days, if I recall correctly_ , the Wind helpfully supplied. As if Haruka wasn’t keeping track.

“Half a week.”

Rin seemed to shudder before he spoke again. “I’ll... I’ll go see you,” he promised. “Not often, but I’ll try to do it at least once every year so you can catch up.”

Haruka didn’t have the heart to tell Rin he would talk to an empty tree.

“Maybe you should talk to your sister instead.”

Rin froze.

“What?”

A part of Haruka started regretting not having bitten his tongue. But he didn’t want to leave knowing Rin wouldn’t stop avoiding his family.

“When I met her, she said you were expelled from an important magic academy and you enrolled into a boarding school so you didn’t have to face her and your mother.”

RIn’s back was so tense Haruka feared his spine would snap.

“That’s not any of your business,” he hissed.

Haruka pursed his lips together.

“But it’s yours,” he replied. “Why were you expelled?”

“If Gou already told you, why do you keep asking?”

“She only said you caused an accident.”

Rin exhaled through his nose.

 “I’m sorry, but I have to study,” he stated. His tone had changed; it was cold, detached. “You can ask any of my sister’s friends to take you somewhere so you don’t get bored until tomorrow. Good night.”

He was turning around the corner by the time Haruka remembered how his limbs worked; but Rin was already too far away and his voice had died down the second Rin showed he didn’t want to spend more time with him.

 

 

Rin wasn’t at his school when Haruka went looking for him next day. He wasn’t home either, he learnt after asking Makoto to call Gou.

Haruka looked for him in every place they had been together and every place he could think of; but not even once did he see that familiar red flash playing with the Wind among the crowd. He went to the abandoned park Rin had taught him the basics of controlling his magic as a last desperate resort, and wasn’t entirely surprised when he found Rin there.

The sight wasn’t as relieving as it was upsetting, though.

A fear Haruka had refused to let take over him painted his mind a dull grey. As much as he was overjoyed with the opportunity Mother Earth had given him, he didn’t want to die. Not now, not ever. Not after tasting what living as a human was, after registering the way his body reacted when Rin was close. Not–

 _Ah_ , a voice within his head said, eerily similar to the Wind’s, _but close doesn’t mean in love._

Rin looked up, stopping Haruka from descending further into his desperation without even knowing.

“Oh,” he let out. He was sitting on the swing Haruka had sat on the first night they had talked; something akin to shame darkened his expression. “I guess I am too predictable.”

Haruka plopped himself down on the other swing, grabbing the chains even though he didn’t plan on pushing his luck by swinging back and forth.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that,” he whispered.

For a whole minute, Rin alternated between staring at Haruka, flushing, looking down. Repeating after his blush vanished.

But he eventually spoke:

“A few months after I came here,” he started, voice so low Haruka almost missed it, “I got accepted in the best magic academy in Japan. I still don’t know how I managed to do it; since Dad died my abilities had worsened… But I passed the entrance exams just fine.”

Haruka frowned.

“Why are you–?”

“Leave me finish.” Rin breathed in deeply. “Thing is, I made friends easily… perhaps too easily. At first they were alright, we talked and had fun together. But they got weird when I surpassed them in class.” As he talked, he seemed to shrink into himself, shame almost visible around his slumped shoulders. “Looking back, it’s obvious they wanted to get rid of me,” he whispered. “They dared me to summon a Dark One.”

Haruka shuddered. He had seen a Dark One once; it had been so unpleasant not even the Wind had dared touch it. Not to mention how dangerous entities whose only purpose was eating Reality away were.

“And you… did it?”

Rin let out a hollow chuckle.

“I’d love saying I refused, believe me.” He had his arms crossed, but it looked more like he was hugging himself. “That I used my head instead of getting carried away just to prove them I could do it.”

Haruka swallowed down, fearing the end of the story.

“Yeah, I summoned it. It didn’t go well.”

Haruka didn’t want to ask further, but at the same time he needed to know.

“What happened?”

Rin didn’t move.

“They died. They weren’t fast enough to escape, and the Dark One sucked the life out of them.” Rin shuddered. “I would have had the same fate had the teachers arrived two minutes later.”

For a long while, neither of them spoke. Haruka could only begin to understand how Rin probably felt, the hell his mind was, trapped in shame and guilt. It now made sense, how reluctant he had been to talk about the matter.

“Why are you telling me?” he quietly asked.

Rin raised his head.

“Because you asked.”

He forced a smile on his face; it wasn’t fake, but it looked tense, as if the abysses in his eyes had swallowed his ability to smile naturally too. It wasn’t as if Haruka hadn’t seen Rin’s genuine smile in the days they had been together; but it was always incomplete and at times Rin failed to hide it.

“I have never told anyone about it,” Rin added, as if talking to himself. “I don’t want people to know– Well, they _know_ – I don’t want them to remember that I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster.” Haruka didn’t think; he only found himself standing up, walking to Rin crouching before him so their eyes were at the same level. “It was an accident.”

“An accident _I_ caused.” Rin let out a sigh. He reached out, brushed Haruka’s cheek with his thumb. “Sometimes I _really_ wish I were a tree.”

“It’s boring,” Haruka replied. Now he couldn’t believe he had ever thought being trapped was what he wanted; everything was more intense with human skin, from the Wind and the Sun to the way a rebellious red lock brushed his nose. “If you’re a monster, then I am, too,” he added.

Rin frowned.

“What–”

“The moment Mother Earth gave me my body back she took Aiko Sasaki’s soul.” Haruka’s voice was low, serious. “I did the same her parents did to me.”

Haruka didn’t know what he wanted to achieve with that confession. Maybe making Rin feel less bad by knowing he wasn’t the only one who was responsible from someone else’s death, maybe just telling him, helping him understand how _little_ Haruka had hesitated before stepping on Aiko’s life so he could have his back.

Even though he had only taken back what he’d been stripped off.

Rin exhaled a breathless chuckle.

The squealing of the rusted swing alerted Haruka Rin was getting closer. He kept his eyes open, staring into Rin’s clouded ones; his heart thumped loudly in his eardrums, the vibration of a wave approaching invading him–

And then Rin pulled back, and the shock made Haruka fall on his butt.

 _Was that_ –

Rin stood up from the swing, walking to the park exit. From his spot Haruka thought he saw him tremble.

“Uh, sorry, I just remembered tomorrow–” Haruka frowned. “Exam,” Rin choked out, voice strangled. “It’s unofficial, so it’ll be in the afternoon.” He turned around. “I know you don’t have much time, but I’m sure if we organise ourselves we can–”

He trailed off when Haruka stood up, shaking the soil off his jeans.

“Rin,” he said, and there was no anger in his voice. There was nothing; nothing Haruka could call _emotion_ , for the first time since he had gotten his body back. For a second he was only the empty vessel Mother Earth had created for him.

“I don’t need excuses,” he said, passing Rin as he walked out the park. “If you don’t want to kiss me, you just have to say it.”

He didn’t look back. Rin didn’t try to reach for him.

It was only when Haruka reached Makoto’s house that it hit him.

Three days, and he would stop existing.

 

 

 

iv. Death

 

 

Haruka was still curled up in the futon after Makoto finished his morning routine. It was Saturday, so it wasn’t strange for people to not awake so early. However, it was the first time Haruka wasn’t outside the house in a record time.

“Is something wrong?” he asked a mop of black hair as he got dressed.

 _Besides the nightmare? Not much_ , Haruka wanted to snap. However, he had less than three days left to exist and he didn’t want to spend them being unnecessarily mean, much less to Makoto.

“I want to sleep a bit more,” he lied instead.

Instead of walking out the bedroom, Makoto sat down next to the futon, legs folded under his butt. Haruka promptly hid his eyes behind the duvet again.

“Did something happen with Rin? You have been weird since you came back yesterday.”

Haruka bit his lower lip.

“How do you know?”

“So it _is_ Rin,” Makoto exclaimed triumphantly. He didn’t seem disturbed by the pair of blue eyes glaring at him. “Did you argue again?”

Somehow, Makoto had managed to convince Haruka to tell him about the incident when he had asked Rin about why he stopped doing magic.

“It wasn’t an argument.” _He just doesn’t want to kiss me_ , he thought bitterly.

He wasn’t angry with Rin, though; he wasn’t to blame for wanting a kiss or not. He was angry with himself, for having ever agreed to Mother Earth’s deal. Now he would have to choose between dying and the eternity suffering she had promised him twelve days ago.

He wondered, then, about Makoto and his family. Haruka had never even thought about telling him where he really came from, and a part of him was scared his friend –at some point during that week and a half he had started referring to him as such, and Haruka couldn’t say he disliked the idea– tried to look for him and only angered Mother Earth.

He sat up, finally facing Makoto.

“Can I tell you something?”

He didn’t tell Makoto the truth. Haruka couldn’t bring himself to put the knowledge that he would either die or face a fate worse than death on his friend’s shoulders. So he altered the truth, make Makoto believe he would be back into the cherry tree if he arrived to the hill in time. Dying was the best option, anyway.

Makoto didn’t interrupt Haruka as he spoke, not even when he got to the most unpleasant parts of his story. He listened in silence, making surprised noises at times, covering his mouth in horror when Haruka finished talking.

“You’re going to spend the rest of your life– in a _tree_?”

Haruka shrugged. “Or suffer Mother Earth’s wrath. Depends on where I am the day after tomorrow.”

“But...” Makoto shook his head. “Isn’t there any other way? Any part of the deal you can use to your advantage, or...”

Haruka looked down. He remembered Rin’s face centimetres away from him, remembered the kneejerk reaction Rin had displayed when he had been about to kiss him.

And it hurt, but not because it was Haruka’s death sentence.

“I don’t think so.”

 

 

Rin wasn’t at the park that afternoon. Maybe he actually had an exam.

Haruka didn’t think about sneaking into the school again. He doubted Rin wanted to see him.

 

 

His death started at midnight.

Haruka awoke shivering, for once not remembering the nightmare that had accompanied him every night. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, but he only saw Makoto, snoring softly on the bed, indifferent to Haruka’s restlessness.

 _Strange_ , he thought, still scanning the shadows. For a second he had been convinced some of them had moved.

He paid attention to the Wind howling outside, but he couldn’t make out his words.

Maybe he was still dreaming, he thought, curling up as he drifted off to sleep again.

 

 

He awoke once every hour, eyes darting around, his anxiety growing as time passed and the shadows approached him. At seven o’ clock he was too scared to dare peek over the duvet. At eight o’ clock he couldn’t breathe, dark entities sitting on his chest.

Somehow he missed waking up at nine o’clock and at ten o’clock.

Two hours later he opened his eyes to Makoto kneeling next to the futon, pressing a hand to his forehead as he informed Haruka he had been whimpering in his sleep.

“Do I have a fever?” he asked, shaking more violently than the hours prior. He _was_ cold.

“That’s the weird thing,” Makoto replied, a worried frown carved between his eyebrows. He threw a blanket over Haruka’s already covered body. “You are cold.”

Haruka knew Mother Earth too well to think it was a coincidence. He managed to disentangle his limbs from the fabric he was wrapped up in and stood up without help.

“Can I see a calendar?”

Makoto lead him to the kitchen, where his mother kept a monthly and almanac.

“We met the third of November,” he informed Haruka, pointing at the number. “And today is the fifteenth.”

Haruka frowned. He was aware Mother Earth loved making things difficult for him, that she would enjoy immensely having an eternity to give him hell, but making his body weaken two days before the deadline seemed excessive even for her. Haruka hadn’t planned on going back to Iwatobi until next day; he would rather stop existing than exist to suffer.

“When is the next full moon?”

“Today.”

“What?”

Haruka didn’t believe it, but when he looked at the simplified drawing of a full moon, with a face and all, he couldn’t keep being in denial.

Maybe he had been wrong all along. Maybe he didn’t have fourteen days, but thirteen.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on it.

A sharp pain pierced through his head, a high tone ringing in his ears, so loud he felt his legs give in beneath him. Only Makoto stopped him from hitting the floor, and he let out a shriek when what seemed a little tornado swirled into the house.

 _She cheated, kid_ , the Wind told Haruka; and he heard the words despite the ringing, despite the pain. _She didn’t say your body would need sleep after she threw your soul back inside._

“W–What...”

_You spent a whole day sleeping before you awoke._

Haruka knew Makoto was moving him, but he didn’t care where.

“’Till midnight,” he managed to say, but he didn’t get to hear his own words.

He was falling down and there was nothing that could stop him.

 

 

“He lied!”

“Rin, lower your voice. We’re alone in the house, but you could disturb him.”

“Disturb Haru? He’s _dying_! Why didn’t he tell me?”

Haruka tried to fight against the midst holding him down. He was furious with Mother Earth, but he was mostly afraid; he was cold, head spinning with the remnants of the bout of pain that had made him lose consciousness.

“Because he didn’t want to worry you.”

Opening his eyes required more strength than what Haruka could gather at the moment, but he tried to speak nonetheless.

“Rin?”

“’Rin’?” There was a hint of hysteria in Rin’s voice, somewhere near Haruka’s left ear. “You never told me what your deal was really about, and that’s all you have to say?”

“You’re loud,” Haruka mumbled.

“And you’re stupid.” The voice sounded low, trembling with fear. “What now?”

Haruka finally managed to open his eyes. Rin was kneeling beside the futon, and Makoto stood some steps further. Their faces sported identical worried expressions.

“I have to leave.” There was no way he would allow anyone to witness his fate– even if he didn’t make it to the tree, he would do it alone.

“To Iwatobi, yeah, I know,” Rin muttered. “We’ll have to be quick–”

“You aren’t coming.” Haruka leant on his feeble hands to sit up, only to fall back on the futon. He wondered where his energy had gone. “Neither of you.”

“You are in no condition of traveling alone.”

Haruka wanted to scream out of frustration when Makoto and Rin walked out the room to talk with an excuse to ignore his protests. They didn’t understand; it would be better for them not being there when Mother Earth finally demanded him. There was no way to save him, and they would only have a bad experience to have nightmares with.

He could manage alone–

“That’s it,” Rin eventually said when they walked into the bedroom again, crouching before Haruka. “Makoto has little siblings to take care of, but you and I are leaving in half an hour.”

“ _We_ aren’t,” Haruka hissed. He tried to stand up, not minding how bad he felt; he wanted to run, to get out of Rin’s sight. Rin was the last person he wanted to see him in such a state. “I’ll manage alone.”

“Sometimes people need help.”

“You can’t help me!” Haruka cried out, desperate. Rin had already proved there was nothing he could do for him.

But Rin’s gaze was unwavering.

 

 

The strange strokes took place twice more before Haruka and Rin reached Iwatobi. Each of them left Haruka feeling colder, and by the time the third train they took (or was it the fourth?) arrived he could barely stay conscious, nose bleeding as his head tried to explode.

He had resigned to Rin’s presence at some point between the moment they got on the first train and the third time he was offered something to eat. Haruka didn’t trust his stomach to keep the food in, so he refused. Rin let him sleep, but Haruka didn’t get much rest; he spent the last ride wrapped up in the quilt he had borrowed from Makoto, trying to silence his pained whimpers in Rin’s shoulder.

“We’re almost there,” Rin’s voice awoke him when the train stopped in Iwatobi train station, helping Haruka stand and get off the carriage. He sighed. “Half an hour.”

“It’ll be useless.”

Rin stopped in his tracks. He had his arms wrapped around Haruka to help him walk.

“If you say that once more I’m throwing you off a cliff. We have time to get you to the hill.”

“I’ll die anyway,” Haruka exhaled, but Rin didn’t hear him, too focused on keeping advancing.

They didn’t talk anymore; Haruka was too exhausted and Rin would rather not waste his energy in pointless arguments. Haruka tried to muster whatever strength he had left; he needed Rin to know, if only because of how badly he wanted to help– He was warmer than ever as he let grunts out here and there, whispering encouraging words as Haruka focused on moving forward.

Rin let out a cry. For the first time since they had left Tokyo, though, there was joy in his voice.

“Hey, look,” he said, shaking Haruka. “See that? It’s your tree.”

Rin didn’t check his watch until they reached the top of the hill; he laid Haruka so his back leant on the trunk, picking a handkerchief to wipe the blood flowing out Haruka’s nose.

Haruka grabbed his wrist, but his fingers slid down Rin’s forearm, hitting his thigh with a soft thud.

“And now?” Rin muttered.

Haruka looked down. “Now I die.”

“What?” Rin checked his watch. “We still have three minutes; we’re here on time, so now you’ll go back to the– Haru, what are you saying?” he asked when he saw Haruka shaking his head.

“Rin, listen.” Haruka closed his eyes. “I won’t be the tree; I’m dying.”

“Liar,” Rin snapped. “That can’t be true, Makoto said you’d go back to the tree if you were here at midnight; I know it’s not– it’s not the same as moving around as any person, but it’s a life. And I’ll visit you and talk to you and maybe you can make another deal with that Mother Earth–”

A sob cut Rin off. Haruka opened his eyes, curious, and something squeezed his heart when he noticed the tears running down Rin’s cheeks.

“I don’t want you to die.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Haruka whispered. He raised his hand again, tangled his fingers in Rin’s hair. “Thank you.”

“Why?”

But Haruka couldn’t find in him the strength to answer. He had his eyes open, but he could see nothing, only dark bulks shaped up in the night; and he understood that the shadows had finally caught up with him. The cold was unbearable, too; only Rin’s warmth next to him relieved it a bit.

Like a little star.

Like his little universe.

When Haruka pulled at Rin’s hair, bringing his head close, he had already forgotten about the deal, about Mother Earth.

He only wanted a kiss.

Rin’s lips were salty with tears, but he didn’t pull back. He kept his lips pressed against Haruka in the chastest of gestures, holding Haruka close as whatever energy he had left abandoned him.

As he fell into the shadows’ arms, Haruka thought that maybe Rin loved him a little, after all.

 

 

_Foolish kid! You have any idea of how much you risked?_

_Leave him alone; he’s still a child._

Silence.

_Did he want to cheat? Did he seriously tried to fool Mother Earth?_

_Well, to be fair she cheated first._

_Shut up, all of you! Even you, my dear Moon_. The disorganized choir fell silent at Mother Earth’s order. _And you, my reckless child. I know you’re listening._

Haruka bit his lip. Or would have bitten his lip, had he found a lip to bite. And teeth to bite something at all.

_Am I dead?_

Mother Earth laughed.

_You should be in a way worse situation. Didn’t I warn you?_

_I didn’t cheat._

_You kissed your boy. A boy you were convinced felt nothing for you. Did you think I wouldn’t have noticed?_

Haruka looked around, even though there isn’t much to look at when one can’t remember where his eyes are.

_I didn’t mean to. I just wanted a kiss._

Mother Earth laughed, louder this time. And why could Haruka hear her? He couldn’t find his ears either.

_And that saved you. As much as I like winning, I can’t break my own rules. Twist them, interpreting them, sure, but–_

_Which you actually did_ , Haruka snapped, angry.

 _I like your soul_ , Mother Earth admitted. _Very few times I’ve met someone as determined as you, my stubborn Haruka. I had to get you to agree to a deal made with half-truths to have the chance to take your soul._

 _And yet you don’t have it_ , Haruka finally understood.

Somehow he sensed Mother Earth’s smile.

_No, I don’t. Your soul is too far from the material world to know it, but you should see that boy right now. He’s terrified, drowning in panic; and that’s your return ticket._

Haruka was sure the Wind let out a surprised cry somewhere in the distance.

_I’m afraid your body will need time to heal from having your soul almost ripped out; but you’ll be fine. Now go back to him; he’s desperate._

 

 

Haruka’s whole body hurt when he awoke again.

He frowned at the wooden ceiling, trying to focus on what his other senses could tell him. He could hear something that resembled steps, probably a floor beneath him. He liked the warmth surrounding him, as well as the comfort provided by the mattress he was laying on, and when he brought his hand under his nose he found, relieved, that it wasn’t bleeding anymore.

He could remember frayed fragments of his conversation with Mother Earth, as well as the salty desperation in Rin’s lips before he lost consciousness. He slowly placed a hand on his chest, over his heart; a silent whisper left his lips after listening to the rhythmic _thump, thump, thump_ hammering against his ribs.

_I’m not dead._

Haruka smiled despite the pain, eyes closing again.

The steps got closer before he surrendered to sleep, though; and in that moment Haruka might want to sleep more than anything else in the world, but curiosity ignited a flame within him and his eyelids parted as he turned his head to the entrance and found Rin sticking his nose in.

His face lit up like a thousand suns when he noticed Haruka staring back at him. He tripped in his rush to run to Haruka, almost falling on the bed. Miraculously he managed to control his limbs and stop himself in time, sitting on the edge of the mattress instead.

“Hey.”

A smile tugged at Haruka’s lips.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling? You shouldn’t be cold anymore and your nose hasn’t bled again; but maybe we should take you to the hospital–”

“Rin.” Haruka’s hand crawled towards Rin’s warm one. “I’m alright.”

Rin’s expression darkened. “How am I supposed to believe it?” Haruka felt his fingers tense under his own. “You always say that, even when it’s a lie, and then make up more lies…” He shook his head. “Why should I trust you?”

Haruka looked away from Rin’s pained face, but there was little he could do to stop hearing the pleading edge in his voice.

“I’m sorry.” He tightened his grip around Rin’s hand. “I only disturbed your life, Makoto’s– I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, you did a splendid job,” Rin muttered, voice dripping sarcasm. “Can I know– Can you please explain what on Earth happened last night?”

Haruka nodded. “If you help me sit up.”

After he was leaning on a pile of pillows, Rin’s hand in his again, Haruka sighed.

Perhaps the worst part of lying is when you have to tell the truth. When you have to admit everything and face the other person’s disappointment, when you know you have no right to complain because it was you who caused it.

Maybe that was the reason Haruka stared at his lap as he told Rin what he and Mother Earth had actually agreed to, why he had fallen so sick the day before he was supposed to. As he kept talking Rin’s warmth seemed to vanish, sinking him into the dreaded cold again. He only dared look at Rin again when he finished.

“You would have died anyway? There was no tree option?” Haruka shook his head. “Then why did you wait until the last minute to kiss me?”

Haruka pursed his lips together. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

Rin frowned.

“You risked your life because you _thought_ I didn’t want to kiss you? Can you get any more stupid?”

“You didn’t at the park,” Haruka snapped, a bit sick of Rin’s constant insults even though he could hear the underlying concern. “You drew back.”

Rin seemed to deflate. Oddly enough, though, his face turned the colour of his hair.

“That’s– I got nervous! I didn’t want to make a fool of myself, it’s not like I’ve ever–” But he trailed off, getting even redder as he looked at anything except Haruka.

“What I’m saying,” he started after a minute, a bit calmer, “is that you can’t do everything by yourself. And you have people who want to help you.”

Haruka sighed.

“I’ll have to get used to it.”

A little smile appeared on Rin’s lips. “You’ll have plenty of time for that now, won’t you?”

Haruka’s cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink when he remembered last night.

“I’m alive,” he muttered. “Which means kissing you worked, and it worked because you love me.”

Haruka found it strange that Rin didn’t blush at all after that declaration. He only nodded, breathing in deeply before speaking:

“I… I guess. It’s weird, okay? I’ve barely known you (you, not the tree) for two weeks. But many things have happened, and– I want to be with you without a countdown, to find more to love about you.”

Haruka smiled.

“I like how that sounds.”

 

 

In the afternoon, after Haruka had mackerel for lunch and his grandmother almost strangled him by hugging her grandson with a force that didn’t suit her old age, Rin took him outside.

Haruka was in pain; and according to Mother Earth he would be for a while; but he willed himself to be patient when Rin offered to carry him in his arms.

“Where are we going?” he asked, arms slung around Rin’s neck.

“To your tree.” Haruka immediately tensed; Rin noticed, stopped on his tracks. “You don’t want to?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

He had died on that hill. But he had also been saved there.

“Something amazing happened,” Rin explained. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but I promise it’s beautiful.”

Haruka nodded after a short pause.

What had happened was the cherry tree in bloom. It was November, as Rin had said four times when they arrived, but the top of the tree was covered in pink; small delicate petals flew on the hill, painting the barren ground of life.

Haruka wondered if Mother Earth would allow anything to grow there again.

“I like it,” he finally said.

Four years ago, Haruka had wanted to see the cherry blossoms with Rin. Now, at the dawn of his life as a human, he was fulfilling that wish, leaning on Rin for support as warm arms snuck around his waist, holding him close.

“I thought we’d die,” Rin explained. “For a whole minute you didn’t breathe, and then you started again– and cracks appeared through the hill, so deep I was scared in case we fell. And then the cherry tree blossomed, all at once, even though it didn’t have a single leave or bud on its branches before. I had to seal the cracks when your grandmother showed up.”

Haruka frowned.

“You did magic?”

“And it didn’t harm,” Rin replied, looking at the cherry tree. “Ever since you asked me I’ve been thinking… I don’t really want to give that up. It can be used for many things, not all of them bad.”

Haruka smiled. “I’m glad, Rin.”

His heart missed a beat when Rin looked at him again and touched his hair. A pink petal had gotten stuck between black locks.

“Hey,” Rin muttered, “are you recovered enough to give another kiss?”

Haruka’s smile turned into a teasing smirk.

“And you? Won’t you chicken out again?”

This time, Rin didn’t taste of desperation. He tasted of hope, of relief, of a smile pressing against Haruka’s own.

It was a kiss that tasted of future.

 

 

 

This story should end with _and they lived happily ever after_.

But it doesn’t.

This narrator doesn’t know if they were, doesn’t know their life after this brief tale. Their story might have ended two months later, of after seventy years and many wrinkles creasing their faces.

But this story doesn’t end with _and they lived happily ever after._

This story ends with laughter.

With the laughter of the tree that fell in love with a child.

 

 

 

 


End file.
